


Oh, So You're Dean

by RiverRunningFree



Series: Man, That Girl’s a Hunter [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Badass Reader, Bloody but Sassy, Bobby - Freeform, Dean - Freeform, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean falls in love, Dean is impressed, Dean loves pie but I love sassy dialogue, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Intro to a series, Not a Damsel In Distress, Protective Dean Winchester, Reader makes a dramatic entrance, SPN - Freeform, Sam - Freeform, Same and Dean meet Reader, Supernatural - Freeform, Thirdwheel Sam, a smidge of fluff, but not too much, dean is smitten, hunter reader, hurt reader, hurt!reader, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-01 12:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverRunningFree/pseuds/RiverRunningFree
Summary: Bobby brings home a bloodied and badass female hunter. Obviously Dean is intrigued.





	1. Enter Like a Boss

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Alas....I do not own supernatural...that is all.

“Dude. Seriously. This is getting ridiculous. Where is he??”

“How should I know Dean? Bobby’s almost always here. Maybe he found a hunt or something?”

Running his left hand through his dirty blonde hair, Dean reached his right hand into his back pocket and produced a lock-pic set accompanied with an overdramatic sigh. “Next time Bobby calls us up for help, I’m staying in bed, man.”

Sam nodded silently in disgruntled agreement as he followed Dean into Bobby’s now open house. He walked through the decrepit home searching for any sign of why Bobby wasn’t there to meet them as agreed. The boys had rushed over here from three states over because Bobby said he had an urgent job that needed taking care of. Here they arrived…. and no Bobby. Wonderful. Cause that wasn’t ominous. At all.

Dean headed straight for the kitchen and pulled two beers from the fridge, tossing one to Sam as he entered the musty living room. “Well?” He quipped, quickly taking a short pull from his beer, “Any ideas of where Bobb-”.

CRASH!!

Both boys’ heads jerked up in unison as the front door busted open and collided resoundingly against the wall, splinters flying as two figures made a film-worthy entrance.

Out of the blinding sunlight, Bobby trudged into his home with a young woman’s arm slung across his shoulders and her body leaning heavily against his side.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he took in the bright red blood that drenched the young woman’s shirt and pants and spattered on Bobby’s clothes as well. The beer was forgotten as Dean and Sam rushed to the entry-way with panic, confusion, and horror written plainly on their faces.

“Bobby! What happen-”

“Move out of the way you idjit! Sam stop standing there like someone just pulled your pants down in the middle of the airport and go grab my med kit.” Bobby snapped at them, nodding to the cupboard for emphasis and Sam scampered off, tripping over his own feet.

Bobby started dragging/ walking the girl towards the couch, “Dean, give me a hand here, boy.”

Dean, still too shocked to speak, quickly stepped in on the bloodied girl’s other side, taking her other arm around his shoulder and looping his arm around her waist for support. As he did so, her head finally lifted up as she swung her face almost lazily to look over at him.

Vibrant [Y/E/C] eyes met his panicked green ones, instantly locking with his gaze. Dean’s step faltered slightly as he took in this stranger’s blood-smeared, yet somehow gorgeous face.

She blinked hazily for a moment and then a loose, lopsided, shit-eating grin slid easily onto her face. “Oh, so you’re Dean.”

Before a startled Dean could respond, Sam barreled back into the room with the precious med kit, already pulling out bandages and needles.

“Oh, for me? You shouldn’t have!” The young woman quipped as Bobby and Dean gently lowered her onto the couch, with Bobby quickly taking lead position at her side.

Dean noticed how rapid and shallow her breath was coming in and that her pale skin stood against the blood that was… everywhere….

Dean quickly gulped down his apprehension and focused on the task at hand.

“Ready to play hospital, hon?” Bobby asked in rough voice as he began digging through the kit and sorting through needle sizes.

“Always Bobby. You know about my unhealthy obsession with Dr. Sexy. I’ve always wanted to try out the foreplay.” She lifted her eyes up to Dean’s and quirked up the side of her mouth into a half-smirk, “Never thought I’d find someone kinky enough to play along though.” She gave Dean a quick wink before sliding her focus back to Bobby.

“Well today’s your lucky day then sweetheart.” Bobby responded as he lifted her shirt to reveal three long and deep gashes that tore through her stomach, still bleeding profusely.

Sam’s eyes went huge and Dean ran to the kitchen to boil water for sanitizing needles. There was no way she was getting out of this without some major surgical intervention.


	2. Bobby.... It's Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Dean and Bobby centric chapter. I felt like I needed to give proper time for an explanation of what happened.

The next few hours went by slowly as Bobby successfully stitched the young woman, who’s name Dean STILL didn’t know, back together. There where bloodied rags littering the floor, and the room smelled of sharp antiseptic and iron-rich blood.

Dean sat vigil over her silently while Bobby got cleaned up upstairs and Sam ran into town to get supplies, since Bobby was clearly not stocked up for this much company. The girl had lost consciousness about five minutes after Bobby finished the impromptu surgery. Apparently, she was too stubborn to pass-out from pain like a normal person, who would have been toast after the first second of Bobby’s butchery.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. She was something, alright. The entire time she’d been awake she had been one long stream of mockery, flirtations, and completely inappropriate joking.

Dean was hooked.

He didn’t know why she had such an impact on him. Heck, he didn’t even know her name! Bobby had run upstairs without any explanation of what had happened. What he did know though was that she had the most intense [Y/E/C] eyes he had ever seen…. It was hypnotizing.

He shifted slightly in the straight-back, stiff chair and leaned a little closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin in thought.

She was something else.

Before he could raise his analysis to creepy stalker level, Bobby came stomping down the stairs. Smelling like wood soap and blood-free.

“Hey, boy. How’s she holdin’ up?”

Dean stood up from his seat and went over to meet Bobby under the entrance-way. He leaned against the wall and sighed, “She looks a little better. Not quite so pale and her breathing’s improved. So that’s good.”

Bobby nodded as he his gaze shifted to the person in question.

“Bobby what happened?” Dean asked desperately, “One minute you tell us to come straight-away for a job, next minute you’re stumbling through the door, with someone I’ve never even seen before, who was about three steps away from visiting the Pearly Gates. What the Hell Bobby!?”

“Keep your voice down Dean!” Bobby frowned at him. Then glancing at the sleeping form once more, he gestured Dean to follow him into the kitchen to give her a little more peace and quiet.

Dean followed hesitantly, striding into the kitchen and popping up on the counter to listen to Bobby’s explanation.

“What happened was… well…complicated.” Bobby’s eyes lost focus as he messed with his hands absently.

“Two days ago, I got wind of a possible Wendigo attack up north about an hour or so. That’s when I got a hold of you two. And then yesterday I heard about more attacks being reported.” Bobby said gruffly.

“This morning _she_ …” Bobby nodded toward the unconscious girl, “Showed up on my doorstep. Something about needing research help tracking a Djinn cult. Since you two idjits hadn’t shown up yet, I told her about the Wendigo hunt and asked her to come with me to check it out.” Bobby sighed.

“I should have listened to her…. After she looked through the research I had on it, she said it looked off. Said didn’t fit a Wendigo pattern and that there was more to the story. She… She tried to get me to wait on you boys and we’d all go together…. But I didn’t listen. Went anyway. She still came with me. Said she had to look after my ‘grouchy old ass’.” Bobby’s voice tapered off as his memories started catching up with him.

Dean shifted in his perched position, switching glances between the girl and Bobby. “Bobby, what happened?”

“She was right. We got to the forest, ran smack right into them. Two Wendigos. Not one.”

Dean’s eyes went wide.

“She took the first one down quick, while I was dealing with the second one. Then… I don’t… maybe I’m just not as quick as I used to be, boy… I lost focus. Didn’t see the hit coming until she was pushing me out of the way. She took the hit for me and then we finished it off. It was a miracle we got out of there alive. I wasn’t sure she was gonna make it… it’d be my fault too…I was too stubborn... wouldn't listen..”

"Bobby..." Dean sighed. "We all make mistakes. Everything turned out alright, didn't it? So, stop beating yourself up."

"Dean, you don't understand... I can't afford to make mistakes like that. I should have known better..."

“Is story-time over yet? Or do I need to pretend to be asleep for a few more minutes?” A voice called from the living room.

Bobby and Dean both startled and hurried into the other room.

“Kid what in hell are you doin’ awake?! You tryin’ to give me grey hairs??” Bobby yelled, taking her pale appearance.

All that that earned him was a cheeky grin and zero remorse.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at her unabashed attitude towards Bobby’s concern and Mother-Henning. The amusement immediately died, however, as he saw her trying to sit up.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy there.” He whispered while carefully helping her to a more upright position on the couch.

She gave him a small smile and then looked up at Bobby, “You know, if I wanted to attend a pity-party I’d head up to Montana and hang it with my druggie uncle. Bobby, this wasn’t your fault. People were dying, there wasn’t time to wait. That’s how it goes.”

Bobby didn’t respond, suddenly becoming fascinated with his books on the half-collapsed shelf.

“WHO WANTS TO COME HELP ME WITH THESE GROCERIES?!?”

All eyes turned to Sam standing in the entryway, door still open, arms full of plastic bags.


	3. Oh Boy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot lighter and goofy... till then but... anyways...

“Hey, sleeping beauty, you gonna wake up at any point this year, or should I tell the mortician to start prepping?”

“AHHH!” Dean startled awake and bolted upright, his momentum accidently throwing him off the couch onto the hardwood floor with a thud. The blankets fell on-top of him, burying him underneath.

“Mghhmmffm…” Came Dean’s muffled voice from under the pile of blankets.

A high-pitched chuckling made Dean poke his head out to glare at the offending on-looker.

“That was mean.”

“That was worth it.”

The young woman glanced meaningfully at his spiky, mussed-up bedhead with a grin tearing at her lips, trying not all that hard to hold back her laughter.

“Better watch-out Big Stuff, with hair like that you might just give Sonic the Hedgehog a run for his money.” She busted out laughing.  

Dean glared balefully at her, then tried to release himself from the blanket prison as he stood up, simultaneously trying to ignore the warm blush that threatened to over-run his cheeks with embarrassment.

“You know, it really is very stalkerish to watch people while they sl- AHHH-OOF!” Dean yelped as his foot got caught on one last blanket, sending him ungracefully to the floor, once again in a heap.

This time full-blown laughter reached his ears and he tried to not think about how it sounded like a mixture of chirping birds and angels….. _Wow, that was very chick-flicky…_

“Come on Pretty Boy, let’s see if we can beat the odds and keep you alive for at least the next ten minutes.” Her amused voice landing in his ears as Dean felt her gently grab his elbow and help him back up, ungracefully, to his feet.

He straightened up, trying to hold on to his last bit of dignity, and narrowed his eyes down at her ruefully. “Was there a reason you decided to almost kill me at such an early hour this morning?” He quickly cocked a smirk, “Or did you just miss my lively presence?”

“Bobby wants you to make breakfast.”

Dean moaned, turning towards the kitchen, “Why?? Why do _I_ have to make breakfast?? Bobby is much better at it. Also, I LIKE SLEEP!”

She chuckled again, quickly taking a seat at the kitchen table. She might be up and moving around, but the wounds from yesterday were still very painful.

Dean seemed to realize this when he saw her sit down rather quickly, “So, how’s that Wendigo swipe holding up?” He asked, suddenly serious, while reaching into the cupboard to pull out a frying pan.

“It’ll hold.” She breathed out, trying to relax her muscles and keep the stiches from pulling. “Bobby put some funky mojo on it that’s making it heal up super quick, so…. can’t complain.”

Dean nodded, pulling eggs, bacon, and butter out of the fridge.

“Hey, can you pull out some cheese and ketchup too? For the eggs?”

Dean froze and turned around slowly to stare at her in disbelief. “What kind of heathen _are_ you???”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, Hot Stuff. It adds flavor.”

“That’s what _she_ said.” Sam muttered, walking into the kitchen with his nose buried deep into another book.

Dean’s mouth closed with an audible *snap* as she snorted in response and he quickly turned back to the stove, mumbling under his breath.

“Morning Sam! What are you reading?” The young woman asked lightly.

“ _The Mutations of the Werewolf Claws Since 1705 A.D.”_

Silence.

“Well… that’s…. fascinating.” Her and Dean shared a quick ‘wtf?’ glance, before swiftly looking back at Sam.

“So, anyways …. with all the bustle and excitement around here, I don’t think I’ve ever actually caught your name?” Sam said meaningfully to the young woman across from him at the table.

“[Y/N]” You responded quickly. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]”.

Dean was just about to get lost in dreamland about what a beautiful name that was, when he noticed Sam’s shocked face.

“[Y/L/N]?? Are you related to _Daren_ [Y/L/N]???” Sam squeaked.

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, “uh…yeah. He’s my uncle.”

Dean quickly jumped in, seeing Sam go white as a sheet. “Why? Who is that?”

Sam’s gaze slowly drifted down to his book and then up to Dean’s worried face. “Her uncle is the leader of the largest Werewolf pack in North America…”

Dean’s eyes went wide.

And no one noticed that the eggs were burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm still not sure if I want to make this a really long fic, or just a shortish fic in a long series. Let me know what you would prefer!


	4. He would never forget...

“Okay. Woah. Hold up a sec. Your uncle is a what now???”

[Y/N] sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The two brothers were staring at her halfway like she had three heads, and halfway like they wanted to grab their machetes and off her right there. Typical.

“So, if your uncle is a…werewolf. Does that mean you are also a….uh….” Dean was staring at her with those adorable sad eyes looking like someone had just kicked his favorite puppy.

“No!” She snapped. _Why do people always assume…._ “No. God, no. Of course not. It’s not a genetic thing. My uncle was bitten when he was a kid. Got taken into a pack.”

Both of the brothers sighed visibly and the majority of the heavy tension in the room leaked out with the twin puffs of relief. Sam mumbled a small apology for the accusation while Dean tried to push away the small relieved smile on his face.

“Well that’s, that’s good!” Dean exclaimed, quickly turning red at the insensitive outburst.

[Y/N] felt herself start to laugh at his awkwardness, offering him a smirk as a peace offering. “Yeah, well, anyways. That’s a whole other story, maybe some other time I’ll let you boys in on all my family drama. But for now… Dean, the eggs are burning.”

Dean’s head snapped to the stove behind him, immediately noting the black puff of smoke emanating from what had been supposed to be breakfast.

“SHIT!”

He leapt out of his chair, diving for the smoking pan. Sam burst out laughing at his brother while [Y/N] quickly stood up and walked to the fridge.

“Let’s try that again. Huh, Winchester?” She teased while handing him another set of eggs from the fridge. “Toss those burnt ones down the drain and let’s see if you can impress me with your culinary skills.”

Dean gave you a toothy grin and took to the challenge with great gusto.

None of the young adults had noticed Bobby standing in the doorway listening in on the conversation. He was glad the boys hadn’t held [Y/N]’s unfortunate family relations against her. He knew the whole experience with her uncle had grown her into an amazing hunter, especially when she was constantly having to go above-and-beyond the call of duty so that she could earn the trust of other hunters.

Bobby hadn’t mentioned her to the boys because he had been afraid that they would have the same prejudice against her as the others had. Bobby mentally shook his head, watching Dean and [Y/N] sass each other in defense and mockery of Dean’s attempt at cooking, he should have known better.

“Morning kids.” Bobby called gruffly, stepping into the kitchen.

“Hey Bobby!” The three of them chorused in return.

“Come have a seat Bobby. Its like watching a pre-breakfast show with these two. Their performance levels are spot-on. Here, pull up a chair.” Sam quipped mockingly from his chair at the dining table.

“Ha ha. You are quite a riot there, baby brother. You’re just jealous that you can’t keep up with the level of wit in the room.” Dean answered smugly.

[Y/N] snorted.

“Of course, Dean. That’s totally what it is.” Sam replied innocently, taking a very long sip from his cup of coffee.

Bobby noticed suddenly that [Y/N] was standing closely next to Dean. Bobby narrowed his eyes. Almost a little _too_ close… oh boy. That’s what Sam meant. Bobby reprimanded himself silently for not foreseeing Dean and [Y/N] having a possible attraction, those two were like the whores of Babylon, they hit anything that moved. But then again… maybe it was more than that. The way Dean was watching [Y/N] didn’t look lustful, just… caring.

Ah. Of course. Bobby realized that [Y/N], in addition to standing very close to Dean, was also leaning very heavily against the counter. Almost wearily.

“So, [Y/N]. How’s those wounds healing up?”

Her head immediately snapped up and Dean’s laughter died down.

“I uh-“

“Be straight with me kid. You were practically on Death’s door last night. No way in Hell you be feelin’ chipper this morning.”

She sighed in resignation. “I’m better than I should be. That mojo you put on me must have been pretty darn strong. I’ll be good to head out by tomorrow probably.”

Bobby nodded, satisfied. Almost. “But it still hurts.”

[Y/N] grinned mischievously, “About as bad as slipping on the tile and cracking your head during shower sex.”

Dean choked and Sam burst out laughing.

Bobby scoffed, “I’m not even going to ask if you’re speaking from experience or not. I can guess the answer on that one.”

[Y/N] just grinned, “What can I say? I like it kinky.”

The possible dark conversations that would result from talking about both the injury or [Y/N]’s uncle was abandoned that day. The atmosphere had been in constant flux between heavy and light since [Y/N] had made her dramatic entrance the night before, but after breakfast things seemed to simmer down and the boys and [Y/N] went about the day in light banter and mockery.

Bobby hadn’t forgotten that [Y/N]’s injury was his fault. Dean hadn’t forgotten that he owed her one for saving Bobby. And Sam hadn’t forgotten that she lived a dangerous life, even more so than the average hunter, because of her connection to North America’s largest werewolf pack.

But none of that was brought up. No one seemed in the mood to talk down and heavy with [Y/N] and she made sure no one got the opportunity to for the rest of her stay.

SPNSPNSPNSPSNPSNPSNPSNPSNPSNSPNSPNSPSNSPN

That night she tossed and turned in her bed, well into the night. The pain from her wounds wouldn’t let her sleep.

After a few hours, she flipped over to glance at her alarm clock. 3:30AM.

Great.

[Y/N] moaned quietly as she forced herself to sit up. Welp, there was no point tossing and turning in bed when she could be reading up on some lore. She made her way silently down the stairs to the living room, expecting to see a sleeping Dean who had been instructed to take over the couch for the night.

No one.

She cocked her head slightly and gave the room a quick inspection in the darkness. Nope. Dusty books, a cluttered desk, and an empty couch. Where was he?

She checked in the kitchen before heading to front door. It wasn’t like her curiosity was robbing her of sleep, she reasoned, she was up anyway. No one really likes to read lore anyhow. Well, except Sam.

As [Y/N] made her way down the porch steps, barefoot, she realized ruefully, she noticed a light on in the work shed nearby. Ah ha!

Just as she’d thought.

Dean was lying under a beat up and rusted old car, just tinkering away. A radio was playing on an up-turned tin pail and filled the dank shed with some slightly muted Metallica.

“Hey Dean.”

BANG!

“OW! SON OF A BITCH!”

[Y/N] chuckled lightly at his antics, “Woops. Sorry.”

Dean emerged from under the car while rubbing his forehead where a dark oil smudge showed where he had smacked it against the underside of the engine.

“Warn a guy before you sneak up on him, would ya?” He groaned and pushed himself up to his feet gazing at you warily, “What are you doing out here at…” He glanced at his watch, “… 3:35 in the morning?”

She shrugged and plopped herself onto the top of the hood. “Couldn’t sleep. Noticed you weren’t downstairs. Decided to go exploring.”

He nodded understandingly and ambled over to a small cooler next to the radio, “You want a beer?”

Shaking her head, [Y/N] gave Dean a side-ways glance. “So what about you? Why aren’t you sleeping?” She shifted to lean back against the windshield, “Do tell. I’m curious as to what kind of excuses man you are: a Shrug-Off, a Blatant Denial…. Mmm… or maybe a Story Maker-Upper?”

Dean snorted, “There are categories for excuses?”

“Of course. So, what’s your answer?”

 “Wasn’t sleepy, and working on cars is soothing so…” He shrugged. Then he glanced at her with a small smirk, “So what kind of category do you put that answer in Ms. Psychoanalyst?”

She returned his smirk while folding her arms across her chest. “That makes you a…” she paused, the corner of her mouth tugging slightly more upward, “… a Delusionalist.”

Dean laughed, “Oh really? And why is that?”.

“Because no one is not tired at 3:35 in the morning. Not being able to sleep, doesn’t mean you aren’t sleepy. It just means that your body is refusing to cooperate with your demands, no matter how badly you want it.” She stated matter-of-factly, lifting her nose slightly and arching her eyebrows for mock professionalism.

“Ah. I see.” He replied in equally mocking seriousness. He closed his eyes in pretense of contemplation, “You are very wise.”

A laugh escaped [Y/N]’s lips as a smile cracked wide across her face. “But, of course”

Dean couldn’t help but notice how beautiful her laugh sounded in his ears. Quickly shrugging off the thought, he made his way over to the hood and plopped down next her, giving her his classic toothy grin.

“So, what should we talk about in these wee small hours of the morning?” He wiggled his eyebrows in mischief, “Out here, all by ourselves. No one would hear… _anything_.”

[Y/N] laughed again and Dean realized he could get very used to hearing the sound. “Nice try, Don Juan. But I prefer not to roll in the hay…” she glanced around, “… literally.”

He shrugged lightly, “Eh, it was worth a shot.” He flashed her his teeth and leaned back against the windshield with a sigh. His shoulder just barely brushing against hers.

Both of them stiffened slightly at the contact, neither noticing the other’s reaction.

[Y/N] berated herself for the slight blush that was rushing into her cheeks. She should have not been affected so easily by Dean’s closeness.

He leaned his head back against the car, forcing himself to relax. “Hey [Y/N]?”

She glanced over at him, his green eyes were gazing thoughtfully out the large hole in the roof of the shed looking at the stars.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to grow up and live a normal life? No monsters, no demons, no hunters. Nothing that goes bump in the night. To have a life where you can go to college, get a job, and even buy a house maybe? Not having to move around constantly or live in dingy motel rooms. Not having to know the difference between stitches used for a bite wound versus a stab wound? To not be facing possible death literally every week. Just… to be normal?”

His eyes never wavered from the stars peaking through the roof above them, and [Y/N] found herself staring at them as well.

“I’ve thought about it. But… I don’t know. The grass is always greener on the other side right? I think a normal life would feel peaceful… at first. But then after a while, it would be boring. Stifling. Like being smothered.”

She nestled her head into his shoulder, not really thinking much about the action. Or about how he instinctively wrapped an arm around her.

“Honestly, Dean. I don’t want a normal life. For two reasons. One because there is no such thing as a perfect life. I think that having a ‘perfect life’ is something that can only happen because of how you look at that life and not based on what it actually is. And second… If I wasn’t a hunter, I wouldn’t be who I am right now. And if I stopped, I would lose a part of myself. So, I don’t mind the hunter life. You get to save people. And it gives you a purpose. Which is more than what most ‘normal’ people can say.”

She didn’t see Dean’s soft smile. She didn’t see the way he looked at her like she had just said the most inspiring thing he’d ever heard. But she did hear him whisper oh so quietly,

“I think you’re right…”

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPSNPSNPSNPSNPSNPSNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean and [Y/N] had fallen asleep in each other’s arms on the hood of that car not long after that. Dean could still feel the warmth of her body when woke up the next morning.

He had opened his eyes to see her nestled into him. At peace. Protected. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. The early morning light was landing on her hair and her face was softened with sleep and contentment, as though she knew, even in sleep, that Dean would protect her.

But then she had woken up.

And there had been a message on her phone from a hunter friend who needed help in Montana with a vampire nest.

Twenty minutes later she was gone.

  Bobby had tried to convince her to stay and rest, he could send someone else, hell, he could send Sam and Dean. But she’d just shrugged him off. Told him to ‘stay out of trouble old man’, and then she had just left.

That next week Sam didn’t comment on how quiet Dean was acting. But he knew. He knew Dean would never forget her.

It didn’t matter that they’d only known her a day.

She had made an impression on Dean that would last a long time.

Dean would never forget her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just an FYI, this is the first story in what will hopefully become a series. This was kind of the "introductory" story of how Dean and the Reader first met. The following ones will be the adventures they go on together (with Sam of course!) and also how their relationship progresses through time. Let me know what you think! I love comments, suggestions and even critiques (well, I don't LOVE those, but I like improving so... yeah, send some my way if you like). Also, if you have requests for scenarios you want to see in the future stories let me know and I may throw them in!


End file.
